


Golden

by Str4y



Series: Broken [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Bittersweet, Deceit, Eating Disorders, Explicit Language, First Time, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mentions of Necro, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Secrets, Sequel, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Str4y/pseuds/Str4y
Summary: Minho was a camboy. Minho had a crush on his best friend Hyunjin. Minho made a mistake trying to have sex with his best friend and his best friends boyfriend, Jisung.Jisung kind of became his boyfriend after that. Jisung was bad. Jisung hurt Minho, but at least Jisung died in the end. Minho has Seungmin and Felix, well he has Felix. Sort of. And Minho has Chan.Minho was a broken shell of a person. But fuck that, and fuck everyone who’s hurt him.Minho is a survivor.
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix
Series: Broken [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1328600
Comments: 49
Kudos: 142





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS, READ THE TAGS. 
> 
> — If you ignore the tags you can’t blame anyone but yourself for anything triggering. Learn to read, guys.
> 
> D I S C L A I M E R
> 
> (dark subjects read at your own risk)
> 
> \- non con and MCD are not tagged as they are only implied/mentioned as past events. Read my tags before you bitch about that. That’s what tags are for.
> 
> \- I don’t condone any of the events mentioned in this fic or any other fic in the series.
> 
> R E A D T H I S P L E A S E
> 
> \- please take caution while reading. Even though I believe I tagged everything for some reason some of you will scroll by anyways. This fic talks about events that happened in my previous fics to this series. They’re very dark. If you read and don’t heed my warnings, whatever happens to you or your mentality is on you. Not me.
> 
> ** Kim Woojin has been replaced with Chan

Not even a splash of water to his face could wake him. 

“Are you excited?”

Minho inhaled deep, hand gripping the sink as his bandaged wrist rest against his chest. His breathing was off. Everything was off. He felt so off. 

“I think they are.” His voice was still so unnerving. Stuck forever in his fucking mind. He couldn’t escape it. Today just made everything worse. “Baby wants to see Lee Knows pretty face again?” 

Minho turned for the toilet, releasing what little he had at the cafe earlier. Jesus. The cafe. He felt so nauseous. Sick of everything. It wasn’t even that he wasn’t healing, it was just...something about Seungmin coming clean after years of Minho letting it sit, Jesus he didn’t want this. 

“Minho?” There were more taps to the bathroom door. He didn’t want to answer. He really didn’t want to see Chan right now. He didn’t even—he didn’t even blame Chan. For anything. All of his disgust was directed to Seungmin. 

“I’m busy.” Minho gasped out, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. God he felt so disgusting. He hated this feeling. He was so pathetic. 

Chan was good at listening. 

“Minho, I’m going to kill you.” Jisung wasn’t there. 

Panic was filling his bones. Fuck Jisung. Fuck these stupid thoughts filling his head. Fuck everything. Right now he just...he was so fucking irritated. 

Minho pulled himself up, going back to the mirror to examine himself for the fifth time. He could still see tiny scars from bone. He could still feel every single slam. He wanted to scream. 

“Get out of my head.” Minho exhaled, opening the medicine cabinet to grab the tiny bottle of pills he started just months ago. He should have been on them sooner, but better late than never. 

Minho took two of the pills into his hand, sealing the bottle before sliding it into its place. He was so tired. Filled with agony. 

He wanted this to be over with. 

——

“Minho, are you okay?” The touch at his hair was nice. After settling and taking medication everything felt much lighter. He was so stupid to decide that today was the best time to bring up the secret they had hidden from him. He clearly wasn’t ready. Not for all of that. 

“I’m okay.” Part of him was lying, the rest was just trying to cope, “I just needed to breathe and take my medication.”

“Just two, right?”

“I’m not going to hurt myself, Chan. I’m just upset.” He clarified with a huff, resting himself comfortably, eyes battling to stay open as Chan’s hand caressed his scalp. 

“I’m just worried about you.” 

He had yelled at Chan earlier. Yelled a lot. And then he’d calmed down. Sat on the counter and they were fine. They kissed, laughed, and talked things out. But then Minho was back in the bathroom, puking his guts and struggling to grasp earlier. 

Minho was just tired. 

“Did you want to eat anything?” 

Minho sighed, “you heard me?”

“Of course I did.” Chan whispered back, “I never left the door.”

“Maybe later. I can’t stomach anything right now.” He admitted, eyes falling shut as he gripped onto Chan’s, “thank you for putting up with me.”

“I know you told me to stop apologizing, but I’m still so sorry.” Chan sighed, “I should have told you the night he told me. I shouldn’t have—“

“Ehhh,” Minho whined, elbowing Chan gently, “enough. It’s fine. I’m okay.”

“Okay, I’m sor—I’ll stop.” Chan took Minho’s hand into his own, holding it securely across Minho’s stomach, “is there anything you wanted to do? Sleep is probably...not going to happen, right?”

“Sleep sounds good.” Minho pouted, “can you sleep?”

“I don’t know.”

“Chan...I’m not mad at you.” Minho sighed, “I promise.”

“You should be.”

“I’ll be mad if you don’t drop it like I asked you to do earlier. If you don’t stop acting like my therapist I’m not sucking your dick again.”

Chan coughed, nearly choking as he pulled the two of them upright, mouth at his sleeve. 

“What will it be? Therapist or boyfriend?” Minho laughed, watching Chan’s attempt at composing himself. 

“Minho…”

“I’m serious, Chan.” He really was. He liked Chan. He liked him a lot. But what he didn’t like was Chan’s...want to fix Minho. Minho wasn’t even sure it was that. But whatever it was...Minho just wanted Chan to drop it. To push it aside. Far away. 

“I won’t talk about it unless you bring it up.” Chan sighed, resting himself back into his couch, “can I just ask...one more thing?”

Minho braced himself, instantly regretting that nod he’d given. 

“Are you going to talk to Felix and Seungmin?”

“Not tonight.”

“Felix seemed…”

“Enough about them. I don’t even want to think about the damage I’ve done to their relationship tonight.” Another big reason Minho was puking his stomach up. Felix. Felix clearly wasn’t aware of anything that had been said earlier. Minho didn’t want to destroy their relationship. But he was so upset. He was flipping from guilt and joy for whatever they were going through. Who did that? 

“I’m sorry. Do you want to go to bed then? I mean—are you staying here or?”

“It’s almost four in the morning. Can we please?”

“Yeah...come on,” Chan sighed, taking Minho’s hand again to lead him towards the back. 

——

Minho didn’t remember collapsing onto the bed. Or how he slept. He just knew that he was waking up with a blistering headache, sun against his cheeks as he pulled himself upright. Everything was so...ugh. He just wanted to go back to bed. But his head was screaming at him not to. 

Rubbing his sore eyes, Minho glanced down to the other side of the bed. Chan was sleeping still. He seemed content. Peaceful. 

But Minho didn’t feel any peace at all. His stomach hurt. His eyes were sore. He was sure he’d given himself the worst stress induced headache of all time. Minho was spinning. 

All of it. 

Minho pulled himself out of bed to rush back into the bathroom. What was he vomiting at this point? 

He rubbed his eyes, breath rough and choppy over the toilet bowl. Sick. He was so sick. He couldn’t get these terrible things out of his head. 

Seungmin watched it all. He stood there, and watched it all. He watched Jisung lead him, watched Jisung force him into a hole, watched as Jisung hammered his hand and ra—

Minho was puking again. He was sure he’d puke himself to death. It was horrible. Everything was horrible. And now he was crying. He was sore enough and there he was, making it worse. 

It honestly felt like the years of therapy and healing had meant nothing. Suddenly he felt cornered in the past. He couldn’t escape the harsh reality that his closest friend had deceived him. 

Deceit. 

Minho sobbed, crossing his arms over the lid as he buried his face, it stung. He stung all over. 

“Minho?”

He didn’t want this. Not right now. No. Minho clasped his hands over his mouth, head spinning. This was so bad. 

He didn’t lock the door. 

Hands reached around him and he could feel the warmth radiating from Chan’s chest as he held him, hands massaging his scalp calmly as he shushed and rocked Minho in attempt to soothe him. 

But it wasn’t helping. Nothing helped. 

“Minho…”

He didn’t even know how he felt right now. Suddenly he wanted to scream at Chan, let him know how badly this affected him. Yeah, he’d known awhile that they had hidden this but...fuck. It hurt. It hurt to hear the rest. 

He didn’t calm for a long time. He was sure Chan was fed up with the trembling and sobbing. Why was he still there? Why did he stay with someone so broken? 

Minho was a puzzle missing so many pieces. Chan couldn’t find them. No one could. Jisung died with dozens of pieces lodged down his throat. 

“Minho, want a bath?”

How long had it been? Minho just knew he’d been shaking for awhile. For too long. 

“I can wash your hair?”

Minho tried to open his eyes, blurry view landing on Chan, “join…”

Chan was hesitant. Of course he was. But one look at Minho and he must’ve given in. Minho needed it. 

And it was nice. Warm. He could breathe as the hot steam filled his nose. And he felt at ease as Chan’s fingers ran along his stomach. Comfort. It was comforting. 

“Minho...Im—“

“Please don’t…” Minho’s voice was so bad. Like, the worst it had ever been. The lingering sadness overwhelmed his tone completely. 

“Okay.”

The silence hurt too.

“I don’t know if I hate you or not…” Minho stammered, getting a deep inhale in reply, “I don’t want to...you clearly didn’t know everything but I...I don’t know. I don’t know how I feel.”

“I should never have hid that from you,” Chan started, fingers still at his stomach, “I should have told you.”

“I wish you didn’t know…” Minho rest back into the man, eyes shut right, “I don’t know what to do.”

He really didn’t know what to do. Now that he’d probably destroyed Seungmin and Felix and possibly him and Chan...he felt so numb. So painfully numb. 

——

Two weeks had gone by. Minho hadn’t really eaten. He hadn’t done much of anything. He forced Chan into work, part of him didn’t want Chan there anyways. Chan would have forced him to eat and talk — and those were things Minho wasn’t interested in doing at all. 

His head hurt again, but it was manageable. He’d taken his pills and settled himself down. He was okay enough. Sure. 

His phone buzzed and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Did he want to answer?

No. 

“Can you meet me please?”

Minho didn’t expect this call. Nor did he know how to answer it. 

It was like Jisung was calling him. It felt that bad. 

But it was Seungmin. He shouldn’t have felt so nauseous. He shouldn’t be feeling so fucking scared. 

But he was. 

“I need to talk to you, Minho.”

Minho felt shivers run down his spine as he parted his lips to speak, mouth suddenly very dry as his stomach lurched. 

“Where?” That wasn’t what he wanted to say. He meant to say no. 

“Anywhere.”

Minho’s chest was so tight. He wanted to scream. He didn’t want to answer Seungmin. 

“Okay.”

Was he okay? Not at all. Was he ready to talk to Seungmin? No. Should he have told Chan he was doing this? Probably. 

Minho’s anxiety was too high. Meeting Seungmin alone in his car was terrifying for some reason. It was Seungmin but...Seungmin was fake. He didn’t trust him. Nor did he believe that Seungmin wasn’t more involved. 

“I’m,” Seungmin’s voice stung, “I’m so sorry, Minho.”

Minho tensed, eyes darting out the window. He really felt sick. He couldn’t even speak. 

“I never...I shouldn’t have kept that from you.”

No. He shouldn’t have. 

“I should have told you the truth.”

Yeah. He really should have. 

“I’ve felt so sick. I’ve wanted to talk to you since that day but Felix…” there was a hitch in Seungmin’s voice, “he told me not to talk to you. He told me to leave you alone.”

“What do you want? Minho whispered finally, breaths as calm as he could make them. 

Seungmin let out a shaky breath, “to tell you everything…”

Minho felt so tense and uncomfortable. 

“You already did…”

“I...sort of.”

There was more? 

Minho inhaled, keeping his eyes out the window and focused on whatever he could, “just tell me.”

“I knew he was going to do all of that.”

It was like Seungmin had lost all sanity. Why the fuck would he call Minho out here to tell him this? Why would he do this!?

“He got the pills from me. I gave them to him.”

Minho couldn’t contain the pained whimper that left his lips, nor the cold sensation that ran down his arms. 

“he told me he was going to do it and I let him.”

Minho shook his head, eyes shut tightly. What was Seungmin saying to him? He shouldn’t be there. Minho shouldn’t have gone. He should have told Chan. This was bad. 

“I didn’t care what he did. I knew what he’d done to Hyunjin.”

Minho choked, holding himself tightly. No. No there was no way Seungmin knew that part. No no. 

“I helped him pick a place to hide the body. Jisung was...my friend of sorts.”

Minho couldn’t see. His tears were overwhelming him. He was just completely fucked and he didn’t know what to do or say to end it. He felt empty. Hollow. This wasn’t fair. This wasn’t okay. 

“He had something on me so I helped him. He told me that he hated you. Wanted you dead and...I didn’t care until he threatened Felix. Said he would be your replacement.”

How was Seungmin so calm? This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. 

“I didn’t follow him up to protect anyone but Felix. I was going to wait for him to finish and then I was going to kill him.”

Minho couldn’t really hear anymore. He’d huddled into the door, holding himself tight as he sobbed into his coat. This wasn’t real. It wasn’t. 

“I went to the funeral to keep appearances at first...and also because I knew you’d show up.”

Minho shook his head. 

“I wanted to thank you...for getting rid of Jisung. The only reason I saved you was because you pushed him off that cliff.”

“Stop…” Minho managed, reaching a hand into his hair to tug at the fading ashy strands, “please…”

“I didn’t care about you for awhile,” Minho’s stomach was screaming at him to get out of the car, “I just wanted Jisung dead.”

Minho’s hand moved to the door. Which Seungmin instantly locked. Why would he do that? 

“Minho...I’m just telling you the truth. Don’t run.”

“L-let me out—“ no. He was cracking. 

“Minho just let me…”

“Let me out!” Minho screamed, hand shaking at the handle. He could press the unlock in his side. He could. But his brain wasn’t functioning. He wasn’t functioning. 

Seungmin’s fingers met Minho’s arm and he felt anxiety rushing in his chest. He was hot, burning up. He needed to get the fuck out. 

“Just give me a minute...just a minute.”

“You—you’ve done enough.” Minho was shaking so badly. 

“Minho...what I did was unforgivable.”

He didn’t want to hear this. 

“I really hurt you and I know and I’m trying so hard to give you everything…”

“Why? You’re…” Minho took a deep breath. He was an accessory. Seungmin was an accessory to two murders. Almost three had Minho died that night. 

“I know I’m not a good person. I know I messed up...I know,” Seungmin had tears down his face that Minho hadn’t paid much attention to earlier, “I’m so sorry…”

“You knew he killed Hyunjin. You watched him murder my friend. You let him hurt me…” the stuttering has subsided. He was enraged. Just enraged. And terrified. And hurt. 

“Yes.”

“You think that…,” Minho blinked, “you think that I’m going to accept your apology?”

Seungmin was quiet, doors unlocking. 

“Seungmin?!” 

“I’m sorry.”

Minho clenched his jaw, hand gripping the door handle tight, “why didn’t you leave me alone?”

His head was spinning. He’d never felt so betrayed. This had to be a dream. This wasn’t reality. It wasn’t. 

His friend didn’t watch Jisung hurt him. His friend didn’t know Jisung was hurting him. Seungmin didn’t give jisung those pills. It was impossible. 

“Minho...I selfishly sought you out. I was so happy that Jisung was gone and I could be free,” seungmins voice was diminishing, “you were like a reward...a pet.”

Minho has never rushed out of a car faster. He was on all four-threes, breath heavy as he vomited against the concrete. 

He hated vomiting. He hated how it made him feel. 

He couldn’t register anything. He was blurry eyed, shaking. He should call someone. He should call the police. He should do something. 

But he couldn’t move. 

Seungmin driving away maybe stung more than anything else. 

Minho was losing so much focus. He rolled into his side, breath so fucking rapid and the smell of vomit so rancid. 

He felt so hurt. It was his heart. He was so heartbroken. Seungmin has nailed his heart. He’d destroyed it. 

Minho curled into himself, trying to calm his breaths. He should leave. He shouldn’t be here alone. He should call someone. He should do something. 

But he just couldn’t. He couldn’t remember how he blacked out. He didn’t realize he’d slipped into chaotic slumber. He didn’t know. 

——

“Minho, you have to tell me what happened.”

He didn’t have to say anything. To anyone. 

Not even if that person was Chan. 

Chan’s fingers were nice, running through his hair, scratching his scalp gently. He was trying. Chan was really trying. 

“It’s been three days and you won’t tell me what happened—“

“I can’t do this, please drop it.” Minho spoke flatly, running his thumb over his arm as they settled wrapped across his chest, “I can’t.”

“It’s been three days and I haven’t seen you eat. Don’t do this, Minho.”

Eating. Minho didn’t want to eat. He couldn’t stomach anything. He couldn’t. 

“Minho please…I’m so worried about you.” Chan turned Minho’s face, worry stricken over his features. Chan was pleading at this point. 

“I just want to sleep.”

“You need to eat.”

“I should have killed myself after that, right?”

Chan’s lip quivered, eyes glossed. Chan cared too much. He cared way too much. Minho didn’t like it. He didn’t want to hurt Chan anymore. He really didn’t. 

“Why didn’t I…?”

“You don’t want to die, Minho.”

He did though. Sort of. At least back then...yeah. 

“Just stop.” Minho commanded, pulling himself from the warmth of Chan’s couch before getting familiar warmth around his bandaged wrist. 

“I can’t stop.”

Minho took a deep breath, turning to the man he knew wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t stop looking for answers. He wouldn’t. 

Minho was tired. 

“Fine.”

Minho yanked his wrist away harshly, climbing into Chan’s lap with annoyance plastered across his face as he grabbed his boyfriends face in his hand, instantly shoving his tongue down the older man's throat. 

He needed Chan to shut up, to stop worrying. For even just minutes. He needed him to stop. 

“Minho—“

He didn’t allow that break, he held Chan’s jaw tight before sliding his hand down to the mans belt, unbuckling too fast for the elder to react before unbuttoning that stupid shiny button on his work pants. 

Chan retorted, shoving Minho back slightly before wrapping both hands around Minho’s arms, watching him in complete worry, “Minho, stop. What are you doing?”

“Stop treating me like a patient.” Minho spat, wiggling his arm from Chan’s grasp to shove the hand he had down his waistband, finding the elders soft length quickly, “stop.”

“Minho I’m not.” Chan didn’t try to stop him, he even winced as Minho began to get him off, the feeling of Chan’s dick hardening in his hand, “what are you doing?”

“Treat me like a normal fucking person and stop pestering me about every little thing I do. I just want my boyfriend not a therapist. So fucking stop.” Minho growled under his breath as he increased the speed of his hand. Something that still stung, was that hand. Despite all the healing and care, the lingering pain would never go away. 

“Minho please…” this time Chan’s hand wrapped around Minho’s hand that was tirelessly moving at Chan’s dick. 

“What? Please what!?” Minho snapped, eyeing Chan. Which didn’t help. The pain in Chan’s eyes only made Minho’s breaths stagger in pain. He didn’t want to hurt him. 

Chan pulled Minho's hand from its grasp, lacing their fingers together carefully, “I need you to listen to me.”

Minho swallowed hard, eyes falling from his boyfriends to stare into the mans chest, counting the lines in his buttoned shirt for any sort of distraction. 

“I love you...I’m not trying to be a therapist. I’m just worried about you. That’s what boyfriends do, they worry.”

Minho had never had that. Jisung has never once given a shit about Minho nor shown any regard. Granted Jisung wasn’t a boyfriend. But that’s all Minho had to compare this too. 

Chan was too caring. Too observant. Too much. 

Minho closed his eyes tight, a mistake that caused tears to spring free. He didn’t want that. 

“I love you and I need you to talk to me. I’m not your therapist. I’m your boyfriend. I promise.”

Minho inhaled deep before leaning forwards in Chan’s lap, resting his cheek into the man's shoulder. He didn’t even know what to say. Did he tell Chan the horror that Seungmin had revealed? Or did he ask him to drop it? Was it better to keep inside, or to release. 

Chan wasn’t his therapist. 

“I love you too,” Minho whispered, reaching his bandaged arm around Chan’s neck, his fingertips lingering back to their place in Chan’s pants. 

“Minho—“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Minho repeated, hand finding its place back around the swelling length, “I want to forget it…”

Chan didn’t fight him, he even let out soft breathy moans as Minho’s hand moved again. 

“Just be my boyfriend…” Minho staggered as he slid his hand from Chan’s pants, lifting himself briefly to grab at his own pants, though he knew he’d need help getting them down. 

“Minho what are you doing, love?” Chan sighed, watching Minho’s movements cautiously. 

Love. 

“Chan, you know what I’m trying to do. Can you help me?” Minho asked, knowing how fucking shaky he sounded. How unconvincing. 

Chan’s hand reached his face, cupping his jaw fondly, shit. 

“Minho, this isn’t going to help.”

“You’re doing it again,” Minho spat, trying to pull his pants down the best he could, “just stop, can you help me?”

“Minho you don’t want to have sex in this state. I’m not doing it when you’re like this.” 

Fuck. 

“Chan, just stop!” Minho felt the panic rising in his chest, “just fucking help me!”

He was losing vision with each second, and his chest was as tight as his throat. 

Did he want to have sex with Chan? Sure. 

Should he at this very second as he’s tearing himself up over Seungmin? Probably not. 

But it’s what he wanted. 

“Please help me…”

Instead, Chan pulled Minho to his chest, taking his hand to his lips to spray tiny overwhelming kisses. 

Minho felt so broken. So overwhelmed and tired. 

And he didn’t realize he was no sobbing into Chan’s chest, the elder still pressing kisses to his hand as his own free hand left soothing sensations along Minho’s back. 

He wasn’t okay. But he didn’t want Chan to fix him. He didn’t need a therapist. He just wanted his boyfriend. 

“Minho, I’m going to make you some soup, and then we can take a long nap.”

Minho didn’t even know how to answer through his choked sobs as he clung onto Chan’s hand, and honestly the kisses brought forth insane comfort. 

“Is that okay?”

No. Maybe. Yes? 

Was it okay? 

——

“I’m sorry for earlier,” it had taken an hour for Minho to stop shaking, and another thirty minutes to finally pry himself out of Chan’s hold, “I just wanted—“

“Comfort,” Chan sighed, blowing on the spoonful of steaming soup before holding it to Minho’s lips, “which I can give in other ways.”

“Maybe I wanted that way,” Minho added as he took the soup to his lips, the warmth filling his mouth. 

“You didn’t, at least not entirely.” Chan frowned, “you couldn’t remove your pants because you were terrified to. I know if you really wanted to you would have had them off.”

“Chan—“

“It’s not therapy. It was plain as day. You’re not ready, so stop trying to force it. Especially as a distraction.” Chan sighed as he brought another spoonful to Minho’s lips. 

Minho swallowed quickly, leaning on his elbow at the table, “I just want to sleep with you.”

Chan eyed him worryingly, “Convenient timing.”

“I thought boyfriends did that, you know. Had sex.”

“Where did you go, Minho? Yesterday?”

“Don’t ignore me—“

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

Minho shook his head at that, biting his lower lip. Not because he was upset. But because Chan was right. 

“I saw Seungmin.”

Chan let the spoon sit at the edge of the bowl, taking Minho’s face back into his hands, thumb caressing along his cheekbone, “Seungmin?”

Minho nodded with a deep sigh, “yes, Seungmin.”

“What happened?” Chan asked, sliding his chair closer, more than likely to examine Minho again. But Minho didn’t want to fight anymore. Not right now. 

“He told me the truth.”

Chan’s touch was so warm, relaxing. 

“He knew everything.” Minho was doing his best not to cry again, his best to just stay grounded. 

“Everything?”

“He gave Jisung those pills.”

Chan stilled. 

“He knew Jisung had killed Hyunjin, and he knew Jisung was going to kill me.”

Chan seemed heartbroken, like his entire world had crumbled. 

Honestly? Minho’s was crumbling too. Just saying those words stung, made his heart ache. 

“He watched everything.”

Chan took a deep breath before sliding his other hand to Minho’s face, thumb running under his eye as if he were crying—no he was. Again. 

“He watched everything he did to me that night, was helping Jisung before that and...he only helped me because Jisung fell off the edge that night. If I hadn’t kicked him I wouldn’t be—“

Minho couldn’t even find the words to continue. His throat was so tight that all he could do was shut his eyes again, the warmth from Chan’s hands seeming to gather every tear. 

He hated how vulnerable he felt. How Seungmins words from the other day had completely dismantled him. Crushed him to pieces. 

“Minho…”

“I just really want to stop talking about it, okay?”

Thankfully Chan listened. Minho felt the elder move from his chair to wrap himself around Minho, moving his hands from his face to his back and hair, soothing touches helping him to calm. He wouldn’t break again. He wouldn’t. 

“We have to turn him in...if we can prove that—“

“No more talk.” Minho shuddered, pulling back from the grasp to press his lips against Chan’s, taking soft breaths as he pressed tiny kisses along the elders mouth. 

Thankfully, Chan listened again. 

And thankfully, Chan didn’t fight when Minho dragged him from the table into Chan’s bed.

Did Minho want to sleep with him? Of course he did. 

Was tonight the night? No. 

Minho felt such a rush of comfort as Chan wrapped the warm blanket around them, nose to nose as his hands soothed Minho’s arms. 

Comfort, the comfort was good. 

It was so good that the next morning felt like a dream. The night was fleeting and painful but at least the morning was bright. And welcoming. 

The warmth of Chan was the best thing to wake up to. It felt like home. Maybe Chan was his home. 

——

“So, how's your coffee?”

The morning had been quiet. And they had gone to a café before Chan had to go to work, probably so he could make sure Minho ate. 

“It’s fine, yours?”

“Too hot.” Chan laughed, twirling his stirring straw around his drink, “they had a new girl working so I can’t be upset.”

Minho took a deep breath, “I’ll be okay.”

Chan kept that smile at his face, “I know. You’ll be fine.”

“I think I’m going to talk to Felix.”

“Minho—“

“I miss him. I just want to see him.” Minho admitted, “no Seungmin stuff...he’s working anyways. Felix is probably off just like me from school stuff.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise I’ll be okay. And it’s Felix...we love Felix.” Minho laughed, getting a more genuine smile out of the man settled across from him. 

Felix. 

Minho hadn’t spoken to Felix in a long time. He hadn’t seen Felix since the incident at that other cafe. The horrible incident that led Minho into his breakdown. 

He hoped Felix was okay. 

Felix wasn’t okay. He was thin, dark circles hanging under his eyes almost as horrific as the cancer stick that stuck from his lips. 

“What?” 

Felix wasn’t okay. 

“I just wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

Because he missed Felix. 

“Why would you come here after what he did?” Felix blew smoke, eyes so lackluster, “what do you expect me to say?”

“I didn’t expect anything from you—“

“We broke up, Minho.”

Minho’s heart ached. That’s not in any world what he ever wanted to hear. Not from Felix. 

“What are you—“

Felix smushed the cigarette into the wall, dropping it down with the pile of what looked to be hundreds of smoked cigarettes...Jesus Christ. 

“He told me so much. He decided to ruin everything by telling me all he fucking could.”

“Felix…” Minho wanted to reach out. He wanted to comfort his friend. But Felix didn’t seem to want Minho near him at all. 

“The shit he did...the horrible shit he watched and...Minho he’s disgusting.”

Pause. 

“I can’t believe what he—“ Felix took a sharp breath, biting hard into his bottom lip. He was so hurt. 

“Felix...can I?” Minho reaches out, fingertips caressing the younger man's shoulder. 

Felix took a moment before burying his face into Minho’s shoulder, taking deep breaths as he looped his arms around Minho tightly, wetness coating his shirt. 

He was so hurt. 

Minho felt so responsible. But he was in the right. Seungmin was horrible. 

——

“What did he tell you?”

“Everything he could.” Felix whispered as he sipped from his hot cocoa, “everything. He told me how he helped that man and how he just watched what happened and how he couldn’t wait to—“ Felix stopped, shaking his head in complete disbelief of whatever was in his mind, “just sick…”

Minho frowned, sipping his own cocoa, “Felix, are you blaming yourself?”

Felix turned away, “I don’t know. If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“He would have done it eventually.”

“I don’t think so. Seungmin told me that jisung was a dick, but the way he talked about you…” Felix inhaled, “it’s a weird feeling. The other half of me tells me that Jisung would have hurt you anyways. That somehow I’m not at fault for this but—“

“That’s because you aren’t?” Minho questioned, “you didn’t do anything but exist.”

Felix offered the tiniest smile that somehow still held all the light in the world, “I want to turn him in, Minho.”

Minho took a deep breath at that. What would turning Seungmin in do? He’d just be behind bars. the seungmin he knew. Yeah, Seungmin was vile and made Minho’s stomach churn—but he was Seungmin. 

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“You and him were—“

“Were.” Felix mouthed, “you know we were together for so long and I just...I really thought I could trust him. Tell him anything. I didn’t think I could ever love anyone like him but when we met you…” 

Minho forced his eyes away, staring into the mug in thought. He meant that much to Felix. So much that Felix would give Seungmin up for him. Not that it’s what Minho really wanted. If he could take back the confession, take back overhearing their conversation and stop himself from ever bringing it up—he would. 

“I love you, Minho. You’ve become family and I just can’t…” Felix patted Minho’s hair, something Minho had badly missed, “I can’t continue to love someone that hurt you like that. That is capable of the most vile things. Seungmin isn’t worth that.”

It stung. Seungmin loved Felix so much. And Felix the same. The reason Minho was alive was because of how much Seungmin wanted to protect Felix. Minho would have died that night without Seungmin’s help. 

Minho pushed his mug aside before pulling Felix into a tight hug, rolling his knuckle against the younger man’s back in soothing circles, “I love you too, Felix. I’m not going to tell you what to do but I don’t think you need to turn him in or cause yourself anymore damage...I don’t want you hurt.” 

“But he hurt you.”

“I’m fine. I have you, and I have Chan, and my mom. And school. I’m so close to graduating too...even if I’ve been skipping but I think they’ll let me slide...and this lady from therapy,” that he’d also been skipping, “she has this opening at her vet clinic and offered me a volunteering position so I’ll have that too and...,” Minho took a deep breath, “I have a lot to live for and nothing he or Jisung did is going to stop me from living on.” He had to believe it. He had to. 

Felix wrapped his arms around Minho tight, “I just want you to be okay, Minho.”

Minho wasn’t sure he was completely okay. But he had Felix. And he had Chan. And he’d be okay with some time. He would. 

——

“You finally went back?” Chan took a deep breath as he rested into the couch besides Minho before laying his head into Minho’s lap, adjusting his messily undone tie. 

Minho huffed at that, “I told you I would. I just needed a breather.”

“You seem happier. But you’re spending too much time with Felix.”

Minho chuckled at that, flicking Chan’s forehead, “Look, he’s my second boyfriend okay.”

Chan pulled a face, sliding himself up to press tiny pecks to Minho’s jaw, “he better watch it.”

“We like Felix remember?” Minho replied, swatting the man away before curling into his side, “I’ll spend more time with you if you get a better schedule.”

“Me? You’re the one spending all of your time at the vet clinic.” Minho teased, “how are you juggling everything?”

Minho pouted in reply, chin resting on his boyfriend shoulder, “I’m sorry I’ve neglected you. You’re just like a puppy, Chan.”

Chan snorted at that, “I’ll try to get earlier sessions. I hate falling asleep on you every night.”

“I seriously don’t mind you sleeping on me every night.” Minho teased, getting an attack of kisses to his throat, eliciting small gaspy giggles. 

He was neglecting him in a way. But their schedules had just been too hectic. 

“When are you taking a vacation?” Minho asked, the lips at his neck pausing, “shouldn’t you have something by now?”

Chan sat upright, “I don’t have the word vacation in my dictionary, Minho.”

“I know that a lot of people rely on you but...just a week off?” Minho shrugged, “I could take a week off of everything too.”

Chan’s expression softened, “some of them really rely on me...I’m not sure if leaving them a week if a good choice right now.”

Minho knew that. Chan has a patient on the verge of the unthinkable. It was selfish to ask for a week away with him. 

“Okay so...I’ll take a week off and I’ll be here when you come home.”

“Felix is busy with school too..I don’t want you to be alone all day.”

Ah. 

Chan’s main concern must have been Minho’s eating. If Minho was home alone all day he’d probably forget to eat. He was still doing that on his days off from the clinic. But he at least got meals in the night at school. And when he had Felix around he was force fed baby carrots and ramen. 

Alone?

Minho rest against Chan more comfortably, “okay so...one day then. Just one.”

“One day off?” Chan asked, hooking his arm around Minho’s side, soft touches to his side making him considerably tired and warm. 

“Yeah. Just one.” Minho yawned, “one day without anything but you. Sounds like a dream.”

Chan shifted, tugging the blanket from the back of his couch to drape around them, “I can do that. I’ll find a day and mark it off unless you have a day in mind?”

Minho laughed under his breath, “October, the third.”

Chan seemed confused, “why that day—“ it was like the realization hit him like a truck. Chan had seriously forgotten his own birthday, “my birthday…”

“Yes, your birthday.” Minho couldn’t stifle the laugh as he pulled the blanket up around his neck, “I want to at least have that with you. If I can’t get a week give me that day.”

Chan sigh into Minho’s hair before pressing tiny kisses, resting his head against Minho’s shortly after, indication that they were probably going to be sleeping on the couch tonight. 

“You should change.” Minho yawned once more, sliding his fingers into Minho’s hand at his side, “you had a long day.”

Minho didn’t get a reply. Actually, he just received soft breaths to his hair. Chan was that tired. Which was worrisome. But Chan’s job was tough. Minho couldn’t imagine having to hear the things his boyfriend heard. God, he couldn’t fathom how Chan had gotten through their own conversations. 

But he loved him a lot. Minho knew that much. Chan cared about people a lot. At first Minho was perplexed as to how Chan has handled everything that had happened. And it wasn’t like Minho was completely healed. He was healing every single day. And somehow Chan had been there through every anxiety attack and breakdown. Chan was a good constant. 

He needed him. 

——

“Ah, please eat.” Minho pouted, brushing his index along the top of the rabbits head. He’d grown strangely close to this rabbit. It made sense, he guessed. The rabbit had eating issues, and so did he. The rabbit had been through a lot of abuse, so had he. 

“If you eat I’ll kiss you.” Minho whispered, laying on his stomach, chin resting on the tiny pillow he’d bought so the rabbits home was a bit more comforting, “I’ll give you a thousand kisses if you eat.” 

Of course the rabbit refused. She just stared at him, probably somewhere deep down judging what the fuck he was saying. 

“Please, Bomi?” Minho pleaded, crossing his arms with a huff, chin rest against them as the rabbit sniffed aimlessly, “I just want you to get better.”

“Minho why don’t you take her home with you?” 

The sudden voice caused Minho to nearly scream, lifting himself up from the floor with his heart racing, “what?”

“Take her home with you. Maybe she’ll eat.”

“Is that allowed?” Minho asked, petting the rabbits back as he stared at the veterinarian. 

“She is a rescue. And she seems to like you the best,” the woman smiled, kneeling beside him to examine the full bowl of food, “I don’t think it’ll do any harm. She’d probably be comfortable there.”

Minho took a deep breath, “I haven’t had pets in a long time.”

“You’re a natural. I think she’d love to go home with you.” His boss chimed, lifting the rabbit carefully to place into Minho’s arms, “if you’d like to take her home for the night, that is.”

How could Minho say no to that?

——

“She’s pretty.” 

“Ah be careful, she—“

“Is a lot like you,” Chan smiled, carefully caressing the rabbits healthy ear. 

Minho scrunched his face, “ha-ha. Is it because she’s missing an ear and I’m missing a hand?”

Chan offered the slightest pout, “you’re both soft and sweet.”

“sure,” Minho laughed, leaning into Chan’s shoulder, “she still won’t eat.”

“She’s reluctant. You said the people who found her told the vet she’d been abused, right?”

“Yeah. Poor baby lost her ear because of them, the vets been treating her for a few weeks now” Minho pouted, watching the small rabbit fondly, “despite that she’s really welcoming…”

“A lot like you.”

Minho shook his head, “I’m so rude—“

“Not at all,” Chan smiled, “you’re very warm. Even if you have a hard time opening up to others, opening up to you is easy.”

Minho brushed his fingers into the rabbits chocolate brown fur, “I hope she eats soon.”

Chan pressed a kiss to Minho’s hair before lowering the rabbit back into her cage, “she’ll probably eat with some time. We should leave her alone for a bit.”

Minho nodded, giving the rabbit one last pat before following Chan out of the bedroom. Hopefully she’d eat. At the very least nibble at her food. 

“Are you guys gonna keep her?” Felix asked, placing the empty bowl that once held popcorn onto the coffee table, “you should keep her.”

Minho bit his lip before sliding into the couch beside Felix, “I don’t know about that. She’s been through a lot and needs a lot of care.”

“So you’re saying you’re perfect for her?” 

“Felix—“

“Why are you in psychology, Minho?” Chan asked then, sliding a new bowl of popcorn into the table in place of the emptied one. 

Minho sighed, “social work—“

“You’re so good with animals.” Felix chimed, taking a handful of popcorn and shoveling it into his mouth, “like really good.”

“I’ve always liked animals.”

“More than people. Animals are better than people. It makes sense you’re so good with them.” Chan teased, taking a seat beside Minho. 

“They’re just scared and need love,” Minho laughed, resting his head into Chan as Felix continued to destroy the popcorn bowl, “I can still help animals. Psychology is helpful there, too.”

“Mmh, I guess.” Felix was barely audible with the popcorn down his throat, “so what are we watching? Also please don’t make out during the movie.”

Chan flicked a piece of popcorn into Felix’s direction, “we won’t. And it’s just some cheesy action movie.”

“Excuse me, it’s not cheesy!” Minho interjected, turning to give Chan a serious scrunched up look, only to receive a wide smile in reply. 

“I love you, Min“

Minho’s lips curled into a bright smile of their own, “I love you too—“

“Ew stop, do that after the movie.” Felix whined, elbowing Minho gently. 

The rest of the night had been nice. Felix and Chan had talked throughout the entire movie, which had been endearing yet annoying as hell. Minho was glad those two had grown closer. Especially after what had happened with Seungmin, though Minho worried about Seungmin a lot. He hadn’t seen him since the man’s confession, but part of him didn’t want to. Seeing Seungmin wouldn’t do anything positive at this point. And Felix seemed alright considering the circumstances. 

“You tired, love?”

Minho loved when Chan called him that. It wasn’t often and it wasn’t enough, but when he heard that term it made his stomach burst with butterflies. Sentient. 

“Not too tired, too much popcorn—“

“You barely had any.” Chan sigh, sliding down into Minho’s lap, “Wanna head to bed?”

Minho took a deep breath, “you think Bomi ate yet?”

“Wanna check on her again?”

Minho had left a dozen times during the movie to check on the bunny. Luckily pause was a thing. 

“Maybe in a bit. She’s probably annoyed with how many times I ran in there to check her bowl. Chan she was even laying on the food one of the times.”

Chan laughed at that, resting his face into Minho’s neck, “she’s stubborn.”

“Very,” Minho sigh. He was tired. But of course he was. He’d had a long day, and the movie was good but...it had definitely been a little lackluster. There wasn’t really anything to discuss after.”

“Like you.”

Minho huffed, “We aren't the same, Chan.”

“Yeah you are.” Chan whispered, “lets go to bed.”

“You’re falling asleep right here, we can stay here again tonight.”

Chan grumbled at that. 

“I swear you turn into a child when you’re tired, just go to bed.” Minho laughed, pulling the blanket from the other night over them again, “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“I’m sorry I keep passing out on you.” 

Minho inhaled sharp, placing his hand over Chan’s head, fingers dipping into brown locks, “you work a lot. We have our day coming up.”

“Life has gotten really busy, hm?” Chan yawned again, face happily rest. He’d pass out soon. 

“Yeah, busy. Normal, honestly. It seems okay I think.”

“Do you feel okay again?”

“What do you mean?” Minho asked, Chan unmoving as he pulled himself back slightly to stare at his boyfriend questionably. 

But Chan was way too tired, clearly. “Just want you to be okay.”

“I’m fine.” Minho spoke flatly, skipping his fingers from Chan’s hair, “Don’t worry about me. Just get some sleep.”

Chan hummed in reply before soft breaths left his lips, body warm against his own. 

——

“What time is it?”

Minho shifted in his spot, blinking tiredly as Chan’s hand patted at his cheek. 

“Oh it’s only three.”

Minho whined at that, laying his head back into the couch, “three…”

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Minho doubted that. 

“Go back to bed,” Minho insisted before the warm feeling at his side peeled away, “Chan it’s three in the morning…”

“Come lay down,” Chan whispered, sliding back into the couch, patting his side before Minho crawled into the space, arm hanging around Chan’s waist as his boyfriend pulled the blanket over them again, tiny kisses starting to spread across Minho’s throat again. 

“Three in the morning.” Minho reminded, tangling his leg around Chan’s comfortably. 

“I know, I just wanted to kiss you.” Chan admitted, wrapping an arm around Minho, fingertips slipping underneath of his shirt to rest against his back. Which was one of Minho’s favorite touches. The back. Especially against Chan’s hands. 

Minho still sigh in response, burying himself into the comfort of Chan’s hair as the elder continued to litter his neck. 

“Get some more sleep, Minho. I love you, I love you.” Chan repeated that a couple more times before the kisses ceased and tiny breaths started up again. 

Part of Minho should have killed Chan for waking him up at three AM, but another part was thankful he wouldn’t have to wake up with a sore back from the position they were in. And another part of him wished Chan was still kissing him, that warmth was surreal. Comforting. He loved Chan’s warmth. 

“I love you too,” Minho finally responded, eyes falling shut in defeat, “I love you too.”

——

“Empty.” 

Empty wasn’t a word Minho usually liked, but this time it made him elated. 

“She ate all of it?” Minho was on his stomach again, peering into the cage. 

“Looks like it,” Chan yawned, opening the cage to give the rabbit a gentle victory pat to the head. 

“Should we fill the bowl for her?” Minho thought aloud, pulling himself up to take the bag the vet had given him from their bookshelf, “just a little more.”

Bomi seemed to appreciate that. As soon as Minho had pulled away from the food bowl the tiny rabbit was gnawing away, tiny little crunching sounds that nearly broke Minho’s heart filling the room. 

He really liked animals. He really liked Bomi. 

“We should keep her if the vet says it’s okay—“

Minho didn’t expect Chan to say that at all. Chan had just met the rabbit, and from Minho’s understanding had never owned a pet before. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, you two are good for each other.” Chan beamed, taking a seat besides Minho as he adjusted his collar, “if your boss says it’s okay...I think it’d be nice.”

“She kind of gave that impression already...she kept insisting I take her home with me.”

Chan pressed a quick kiss to Minho’s cheek, “she’s a rescue, right? If you want to keep her and the vet says it’s alright, I’d be happy to adopt a bunny with you.”

Minho felt warm, like really warm. 

“You’re unreal.” Minho laughed, petting the rabbits head before prying himself from the ground. 

“Can’t hurt to ask.” Chan smiled, standing upright to press a peck to Minho’s mouth this time, “it wouldn’t feel right sending her back. Call me possessive, but she’s really cute.”

Minho scrunched his nose, “she is really cute. I’ll ask her about it. Keeping Bomi, I mean.”

Chan wrapped his arms about Minho’s waist, taking in a deep breath, “I love you, Min.”

Minho just shook his head, prying Chan off before slipping his hand to fix the very corner of Chan’s collar that had slid underneath of his cardigan, “I love you too, now go to work and hurry back so we can spend tomorrow together.”

“Ah, our day off. What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“Chan,” Minho couldn’t stifle the tiny laugh, “your birthday. And we’re gonna do whatever you want.”

Chan didn’t really ever do what he wanted. He’d focused his attention so deeply on Minho. The least Minho could do would be to give Chan a day where he wouldn’t have to cater to him, just one. 

“I’ll see you after work, I’ll try to...come up with something.” 

“You better. I do have a couple of things I wanted to do, but those are the end of the day kind of things. I’ll make sure I prep my voice to sing for you later too.”

“You bought a cake, didn’t you,” Chan huffed, slipping his hand into Minho’s briefly, thumb rolling over his knuckles, “I’d love to hear you sing, though.”

“Good. Because it’s happening.” Minho beamed in reply. 

Chan probably had no idea what Minho was planning, but it kind of made everything more worthwhile. 

——

Afternoon classes and a group therapy session had tired Minho out considerably. Not to mention his boss had made him late to his first period after talking about Bomi. 

But Minho was glad they’d had such a long conversation about the rabbit. His boss was practically setting him up with the sweetest rabbit of all time. She told him once Bomi was well enough that Minho could take her home permanently. 

But he was tired. Really tired. 

So tired that he collapsed onto the bed the second he got into his bedroom. The vet wanted to keep Bomi overnight so Minho had the entire night to himself. As much as he liked Bomi, it was definitely a good thing he didn’t have her tonight. He’d be worried all night if she was eating when all of his focus needed to be on Chan. Tonight and tomorrow were for him. 

How long had Minho slept? 

The minute Minho opened his eyes he could see Chan’s sound face pressed into the pillow beside him, hand woven with his own. It wasn’t that late, but Chan was probably way too tired to do anything tonight. 

That was okay. Chan had tomorrow. They had tomorrow. It would be amazing. 

Minho yawned, curling himself up with Chan. He wouldn't wake him, no. He deserved some rest. 

——

“Hey Min,”

Chan’s voice was sweet. Soft like honey. 

“It’s morning.”

Minho forced an eye opened, watching as Chan stretched in his place at the bed. It was too early, he thought. Too early. 

“You gonna sleep all day?” Chan leaned down, pressing tiny kisses to the side of Minho’s face. 

“Oh,” Minho day himself up with a tiny whine, rubbing his eyes, “Happy Birthday, Chan.”

Chan beamed in reply, arms wrapping around Minho securely as his face rest in Minho’s neck, “I know what I want to do today.”

Minho forced both eyes open, watching Chan who was giving him the most loving look, “let’s get a shower and get ready, okay?”

“breakfast?”

“Of course.”

——

The uneasiness of the graveyard washed over Minho’s skin, eyes glued to the trees with placards reading names of the deceased. Minho knew why they were there, but it was still unexpected that Chan actually wanted to bring Minho with him. 

To see his step-brother. 

“When’s the last time you—“

“Last month. I used to come more often but work and everything gets in the way.” Chan sighed out, placing the flowers at the bottom of the tree. 

“You don’t talk about him a lot.” Minho whispered, hands deep in his pockets as Chan’s arm looped around his waist. 

“We weren’t that close, to be honest. He died really young too…”

Minho took a deep breath, “I’m surprised you wanted to come here for your birthday…”

“He was a good kid. Figured I’d let him meet you, another good one.” Chan beamed, pressing his index finger to Minho’s nose. 

Minho just laughed it off, shaking his head away, “Nice to meet you, Jeongin.” 

Chan pulled Minho into his side, fingers brushing gently against him, “I feel like you guys would have gotten along.”

“Why today?” Minho asked, giving Chan a soft look. 

“He killed himself but I just...I never thought that was the case,”

Minho shifted uncomfortably. 

“I don’t know...everything that’s happened recently has just made me remember what happened to Jeongin. How...weird it was.”

“Do you think it was...foul?” Minho asked, resting himself into his boyfriend as he studied the placard. 

“I do.” Chan hummed, “Seungmin just...really made me think more about this.”

Minho didn’t know much about Jeongin at all. 

“I can’t remember his friend but...I don’t know. They just kind of disappeared after his death. They were always so…” Chan stopped, shaking his head, “I don’t know I just wanted to visit him. Figured my day off was good. Plus my favorite boy got to see my other favorite boy.”

Minho smiled, “I thought you weren’t close.”

“He was still my favorite.” Chan laughed, fingers tightening at Minho’s side. 

——

“Chan, how dare you make me eat all of that food.” Minho sigh, falling against the bed, face pressed into the plush pillows. 

Minho could hear Chan laugh before the weight of the man settled against him, an arm looping around Minho’s back, “you did that on your own, Minho.”

“I’ll keep it down,” Minho whispered, turning to wrap a leg between Chan’s, fingertips running over the man’s cheek, “I promise.”

Chan took a deep breath, “good. Just stay with me tonight.”

“I plan on it.” Minho inhaled, adjusting himself more comfortably before pressing his lips against Chan’s, the elder slightly surprised yet taking his lips happily. 

Was this a good idea? Minho wasn’t sure. But he really didn’t want to stall anymore. It had been two years since he’d fallen for Chan. Two birthdays he’d celebrated with him innocently. 

Fuck it. 

“Minho—“

Minho pushed Chan into his back, sprawling over him, lips still planted together as his fingers crawled up Chan’s shirt. 

Goddammit. 

Chan had Minho pushed up, hand secure at his chest, “what are you doing, love?”

Love. That term just...got Minho so worked up. 

Minho inhaled again, rolling his hips suddenly into the elder males, Chan releasing sighs of bliss. 

“Minho, you don’t have to do this. It’s okay—“

“Do you want to?”

Chan looked sympathetic despite clearly getting worked up by Minho’s pressure at his pants. 

“Chan, I want to give you this. Let me.”

“Minho you don’t have to give me any—“

Minho grasper Chan’s jaw in his hand, hips pressing harder down against Chan’s clearly hardening length, “I want it too.”

Chan seemed unconvinced. 

“Now is as good a time as any, right?” Minho asked, caressing Chan’s jaw before slipping his hand down to unbuckle Chan’s pants, glad the elder let him slide his hand down into the warmth of Chan’s briefs. 

Chan seemed apprehensive as he ran his fingertips up Minho’s shirt, pressing them along his sides. 

“I’m serious, Chan. It’s your birthday and...I want to. I really do.”

Chan was quiet, hands running up Minho’s stomach as Minho’s hand made its way around Chan’s length. He was so hard. Leaking even. 

“I know you’ve wanted to for a long time.”

Chan’s eyes fluttered in bliss as Minho’s thumb pressed against his slit, “Min—“

“Let me give you this present...if you’ll take it.”

Chan’s lips must’ve been a yes. Finally. He’d finally believe Minho. After months of refusing and months of telling Minho no, he was finally letting him. He hoped. He didn’t want to wait anymore. Minho didn’t think Chan would ever do it with him. He wanted it so badly. 

“Chan—“ Minho whispered, breaking the kiss, “do you want to sleep with me?”

Chan’s eyes fluttered open, half lidded and full of lust. 

“I’ve wanted to make love to you for so long, Minho...but I’m just so…”

“Worried?” Minho took a deep breath, sliding his hand from Chan’s pants to run up against Chan’s stomach, admiring all the lines. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You couldn’t.” Minho whispered, sliding himself up before pulling Chan back with him into the array of pillows, “you could never.” 

Chan’s lips were so sweet against his. Their meal from earlier lingering in their kisses, but Minho didn’t mind. It was raw. Real. Minho just wanted to be real with Chan. He just wanted to be with him. He wasn’t glass. Sex wouldn’t break him. He’d be fine. 

It was a cleanse, wasn’t it? Chan would completely eliminate the thoughts about Jisung. Minho would have Chan. He’d have something pure. In a way Chan would be the only good experience for him. He’d counteract everything. He knew he would. 

“I love you, Minho.” Chan breathed out, hands sliding down to Minho’s pants. 

Finally. Finally Chan was helping him take them off. 

Minho inhaled sharply as Chan’s hands ran against his hips, the feeling of cloth fleeting. 

“I love you too, Chan. Happy birthday.” Minho he said happy birthday to Chan a thousand times today. But this one had made Chan smile cutely, a reluctant cute. 

Minho just smiled back, kicking his pants from his legs as Chan settled over him, leaning in to brush their lips together again, a hand raised to cup Minho’s face. 

“Want me to blow you?”

Chan pulled away, burying his face into Minho’s neck, “Minho…”

Minho snickered, bringing his hand to Chan’s hair, “you could suck me off if you want to?”

“Min-ho.”

“Whatever you want, I want to do it.”

Chan looked back to Minho, eyes full of worry as he brushed his free hand against Minho’s length. 

“Whatever you want, Chan.”

“I just...don’t know what is okay.”

“Everything’s okay.” 

“Minho, I’m serious.” Chan took a deep breath, hand shakily wrapping around Minho’s length fully, moving ever so slightly. 

Minho took a deep breath, shuddering out as his fingers clenched in his boyfriend's hair, “so am I. I just want you to be comfortable with me.”

Chan swallowed hard, pressing the tiniest pecks to the corner of Minho’s mouth before sliding down to Minho’s neck. 

Minho hadn’t had this done in a long time. His toes curled as Chan’s hand moved along his length, Minho moving his hips slightly as Chan’s mouth worked against his neck, the subtle slurping sounds as Chan moved causing Minho to let out the tiniest gasps. 

“Chan…”

Chan kept going, increasing the speed of his hand as he decorated Minho’s throat with pretty marks, Minho shuddering with every movement. 

“I love you, don’t be scared to do what you want. Anything is fine. I promise.”

Chan stilled, “Please tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable, okay?” 

“I will.” Minho answered back as Chan continued on Minho’s neck before sliding his own pants down with his free hand, Minho offering assistance until Chan was able to kick his pants to the ground. 

To say he wasn’t fucking terrified would be a lie. He was. Really scared and worried about how this would go. He trusted Chan but he was shaking inside. As much as he wanted this he knew he’d need a push. And he wasn’t sure Chan would do it. 

Minho gasped as Chan pulled Minho’s up by his legs, adjusting so Minho’s legs were laid on either side of Chan’s hips. It was a weird feeling, having someone so close. 

A familiar feeling.

Chan’s mouth left Minho’s neck, and his hand slipped from Minho’s length, “let me go get something for…”

“Ah,” Minho had bought lube. Even if he couldn’t remember a time he’d ever used it. Jisung was...spit and go. He didn’t think Jisung had ever really used lube. Not that he could remember, “I put some in the…”

“Top drawer?” Chan asked, leaning over the bed to pry the drawer open, feeling around until the bottle came into view. 

“Yeah…”

“Minho, do you want to do it the other way?”

Minho shook his head, “unless you want that...I wouldn’t know what to do and I’d just…”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

“I want you to fuck—“

“I want to love you too, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Minho’s breath hitched. Love. Minho kept forgetting this was love. Not just a mindless fuck. Chan loved him. And he loved Chan. This was so different. So new. 

“I want you to...I’ll be okay.” Minho reassured, moving fingers to screw off the lid. 

Chan took a deep breath, coating a couple of his fingers. 

They were so awkward. 

“It’s okay, don’t be like...scared.” Minho laughed nervously, watching as Chan shivered. He must have been absolutely terrified. “I trust you.”

Chan gave Minho a soft expression before leaning back forward to kiss Minho again, the cool sensation at his rim causing him to grip Chan’s shoulder. 

He was really cautious, fingering the ring of muscle. Chan was so considerate, so worried. Minho wanted to yell at him to hurry because the anxiety of this was starting to get to him, but he didn’t want to rush him. Didn’t want to scared Chan off. 

So he distracted himself with Chan’s mouth, sliding his hand down to wrap around Chan’s length, index tracing the vein as Chan’s finger slowly pressed into him. 

It was a scary feeling. Minho’s body was on fire, and the pit of his stomach was knotted. He was anxious. Nervous. Crippled. He wasn’t sure what to do or how to calm himself, but he knew he needed to do something. The last thing he wanted was to scare Chan. He didn’t want Chan to stop. 

Chan’s fingers weren’t small, and Minho’s walls instantly clenched against the sole finger, breaths shaky against Chan’s lips as the elder slid his finger deeper. 

Hurry up. Minho didn’t want to tell him that, but he wished Chan wasn’t being so cautious with him. He wanted Chan to slip another finger, to fuck into him—but no. Chan was different. He was sweet. Caring. 

Minho tightened his legs around Chan’s hips as the older man finally had another finger pressing against his muscle, Minho’s lips moving hungrily against Chan’s. 

“I love you, it’s okay.” Minho murmured against Chan’s lips, body covered in goosebumps as Chan’s fingers stretched him. It was slightly uncomfortable, and really cold. The lube was really cold. Maybe spit wasn’t—no. Spit wasn’t ever enough. Minho knew that. 

“I love you too, I love you so so much,” Chan whispered back, moving his hand underneath of Minho’s shirt, Minho shuddering as Chan’s fingers squeezed at one of his sensitive buds. 

It was a jisung touch. 

But it was also a normal touch. 

Minho was repeating that it wasn’t a Jisung touch. Over and over. His mind spun as Chan bucked his hips slightly. 

Oh. 

Minho gasped out against his lips, halting his slight movements at Chan’s cock as the elder man’s fingers brushed along his prostate. A nice feeling. A distracting feeling. 

“Minho, should I add one more?”

Minho took a moment to answer as Chan pulled back, watching Minho closely, “yeah...you’re big. One more.” Minho laughed, trying so hard to compose. 

“Are you sure?”

Don’t ask that. 

“Yeah, please.” Minho breathed out, resting back into the pillows as his thumb pressed against Chan’s slit, the elder hissing before a third finger filled him. 

It was a lot. Minho hadn’t put anything there since...he hadn’t used toys or even his fingers to get off there. It was just...he couldn’t. 

Chan’s fingers were making interesting squelching sounds below, it was another distraction. 

“Minho, what’s the most comfortable?” Chan asked, pulling back to allow Minho more room with the pillows. 

“Anything.”

“Minho.”

“Do whatever you want, I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” He would probably show that he didn’t like something before he said it. He was struggling to keep himself calm, but he really wanted this. Really wanted Chan. 

“Okay, please tell me.” Chan signed out, Minho’s muscles contracting as fingers slid out of him. 

It was an empty feeling. But thankfully Chan took no time to adjust them again, running his hand down to Minho’s stomach now as he positioned himself against Minho’s entrance. He was stalling. Worried. 

Minho took a deep breath, moving his arms to loop around Chan’s neck, pulling the elder man’s lips back to rest against his own. 

Chan sigh pleasantly at that, unpacking a condom he must have bought himself. Because Minho hadn’t even thought about condoms. At all. He shuddered in anticipation as Chan slipped the condom down his length. 

And then he was slowly pressing himself inside. And it was a weird feeling. A really scary one too. Chan was so caring and slow whereas Jisung was impatient and fast. Chan was allowing Minho to adjust as he pressed himself inside. 

Minho wasn’t even sure how deep Chan would go. He had no idea. 

The slight pull out before the gentle thrust had Minho sweating, eyes shut tight. 

He didn’t hate it. He didn’t dislike it. But he was fucking terrified, for sure. He needed to get himself together before he scared Chan. If Chan pulled out and stopped he’d start crying. He didn’t want that. 

Chan hesitated momentarily before those soft motions started, Chan rolling his hips carefully as hands massaged Minho’s sides. Maybe Chan knew Minho was panicking too. He was so slow and soft, so careful. 

“It’s okay,” Minho whispered, voice shaky, “you can move more it’s okay.” 

Minho’s eyes opened as he gave Chan a tiny nod of approval, brushing his fingers into his boyfriend's hair as Chan positioned himself more comfortably between Minho’s legs, rocking his hips with a little more enthusiasm. 

Chan moved a hand to settle around Minho’s cock, thumb rubbing the precum down his shaft. 

God Minho shaking. He didn’t want to be. But he was. 

It felt nice. Chan’s movements were so fucking nice. Minho was even rolling his own hips against him, sweat beading down the side of his face. 

“Are you okay?” Chan asked, pressing tiny kisses to Minho’s lips, “keep me updated, baby.”

Minho just nodded, body tense as he struggled to press kisses back. 

He couldn’t lie though, the euphoria was filling him with each thrust, “you can speed up.”

Maybe the slowness was making him so tense. Maybe the change of pace would help. 

“If you’re positive,” Chan whispered, tiniest kisses to Minho’s mouth as he deepened his thrusts, brushing against Minho’s nerves finally. 

Minho threw his head back, breaths rapid as Chan finally increased his movements, the sound of gentle slapping stirring Minho’s stomach. 

He couldn’t think about Jisung right now. Chan wasn’t him. Chan was erasing him. Erasing that awful experience. With every thrust and kiss, Chan was erasing him. 

“Minho…”

Minho shuddered, eyes forcing opened. And of course things were blurry. He was trying so hard. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” Minho whispered back, moving his hand to Chan’s face, caressing his cheek as worry plastered over his face. 

“Slow down?”

“No, speed up.”

Chan seemed unconvinced, but thankfully he did as Minho asked, moving an arm to wrap underneath of Minho, the other working his length that had swelled considerably. 

And as Chan quickened his pace, Minho couldn’t help but release melodic moans, whimpers lacing in. But he couldn’t help that. He was enjoying the coils in his stomach, and the care. But that fear. It was inevitable. 

He wished he could erase it completely. 

He buried his face into Chan’s neck, the man giving a few quicker thrusts. Probably to test the waters. 

But those thrusts were nice. Minho was happily moaning into his boyfriend's shoulder, shaking as Chan’s lips ran along his neck again. 

One particularly hard thrust had Minho’s eyes rolling back, hand at Chan’s face moving to wrap around his neck to join the other arm, holding tight as Chan pounded gently into him. 

The soft was what hurt. The rough was calming. It was distracting. And nice. Really nice. 

“W-Chan!” Minho was shaking with every thrust, feeling himself let go fairly fast. He could feel the stickiness between his own stomach and Chan’s, breaths shaky and unsteady. 

He couldn’t even breathe as Chan held him, giving more of those little succession thrusts. It was so good. Like unexpectedly nice. Deep and slightly painful due to his size, but nice nonetheless. 

“Minho...I’m going to...fuck.”

“Where do you want to?” Minho shuddered, voice so small and soft as he struggled to get through his own high, legs tight and shaky around Chan’s hips. 

“I don’t know Minho...what’s safe.” Chan gasped out, holding Minho tightly, thrusts getting particularly deep as the elder man’s breaths got more unsteady. He’d burst any second. 

“Inside is fine. Anywhere’s fine.” He was wearing a condom anyways, anywhere would be fine and safe. 

Chan nodded, pulling himself up, hand pressing to Minho’s cum coated stomach as he rolled his hips hard, Minho arching his back and releasing long overstimulated moans as Chan’s free hand slipped up to his neck momentarily. 

And Minho wasn’t sure if he would have liked that, but Chan quickly retreated to Minho’s jaw, caressing his bottom lip with his thumb before releasing pretty breathy moans of bliss. 

Minho whined against Chan’s hand as the elder came. Though inside the condom, the feeling was still there. And Minho couldn’t contain the water in the corner of his eyes. He just needed to hide that from Chan, holding against the man tightly. 

Chan decided to ride out his orgasm slow, rolling his hips until he basically collapsed down against Minho, breath rapid against his throat. 

Minho closed his eyes right, chest heaving as he tried to calm himself. It was fine. It was actually really pleasing, nice. He didn’t want to let the tiny things get to him. They were normal things. Jisung didn’t own anything. 

“Minho...are you okay, love?” Chan’s thumbs were running underneath of Minho’s eyes. Fuck. He didn’t want to cry or panic. He didn’t want Chan to think he’d done anything wrong. 

“Yeah. Yeah…” Chan pulled out slow, pulling Minho into his lap. 

It was nice. Chan’s warmth as he pulled Minho to his chest, breaths still shaky as he planted tiny kisses into Minho’s hair, “are you sure?”

“I love you,” Minho shuddered, controlling his breath as he held onto Chan tighthly, “that was so...so nice.”

Chan’s hands were so warm, “want a shower, Minho?” 

Minho took a deep breath, resting himself so comfortably in Chan’s warm shoulder, “I’m okay. I swear.”

Chan offered the tiniest laugh through his own staggered breaths, “I’m going to trust you…”

“But yes, my tummy is sticky.” Minho managed a laugh back, Chan’s warmth so comforting. Loving. Something new. Something Minho had never had after sex. He was used to being pushed away. Used to limping to the bathroom. 

But here was Chan, carrying him off to the shower and settling in the tub with him. 

Minho preferred showers. A lot. 

But this was new. Nice. 

The water was still hot, and it was encasing him as he rest his back against Chan’s chest, the elders hands running along his stomach as they licked around him. 

“You’re okay for sure, right?” Chan pressed, pressing little kisses to Minho’s hair. 

Minho nodded, “I’m sure. I’m fine, Chan.”

“You were shaking.”

“I’m not used to...it was just all really new. This is new too.”

“You’re calm now.” Chan whispered, kisses moving to his cheek and temple. 

“Chan, I’m fine. That whole tense thing...I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”

“As long as you’re okay, Minho.”

“I am. More than okay.”

Chan sighed at that, resting his face into Minho’s neck as Minho nuzzled back into him, “I trust you, Minho.”

“Happy birthday, Chan.” Minho breathed out, releasing the smallest laugh that seemed to melt the man behind him. 

“Minho...I really love you. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too, so much Chan,” Minho signed happily, turning slightly to take Chan’s lips to his own, all that bliss filling his stomach. 

——

“You sleep okay?” Chan has been really sweet. Really soft all morning. Super worried yet not getting in Minho’s space. 

Minho nodded, bringing the blankets to his face, “Yes, Chan. For the third time. I slept fine.” 

Chan laughed nervously, sliding beside Minho in the bed, hand brushing through his hair comfortingly. 

A Jisung touch. But now it was a Chan touch. It was a nice touch. 

“I’m sorry I got a little rough…”

“No that was the best part,” Minho assures, rolling himself into Chan, pressing tiny kisses along his face, “I really enjoyed it.”

“I hope so…”

“Chan, I did. I really did.” Minho laced their fingers together, eyes struggling to stay open. Though he’d gotten plenty of sleep, he was groggy. Really groggy. 

“Don’t be mad, but I have work today.”

Minho whined at that, looping his free arm around Chan, “skip it!”

“No, you have classes soon too. And work.”

Minho grumbled at that, “I’m skipping classes. Hips hurt.”

“Did I hurt you—“

Minho shot Chan a teasing glare, “Let me skip! I’ll go to work I swear.”

Chan scrunched his nose, “fine, school is fine. Take the day to recover.”

“Yeah your dick is huge. I need to skip a month of responsibilities.” 

Chan’s face reddened at that. 

Minho couldn’t help but laugh, dragging Chan by his tie to meet Minho’s lips, “I love you, I’ll be fine okay?”

Chan nuzzled against him briefly, “I love you too, I hope you’re okay.”

“I’m just going to sleep it off, okay?” 

“Okay, love.”

No matter how many times Chan said that, Minho would never get over how fucking cute the elder man was. He loved that term. He loved it. 

——

Minho. 

Even if he was fine on the outside, his subconscious loved to haunt him. 

Minho, wake up. 

Mingo stirred, he didn’t want to think of anyone but Chan. He didn’t want to see anyone else, either. 

But his world wouldn’t allow any peace. No matter how hard he tried. 

As Minho’s eyes struggled to adjust, he felt his heart race. He didn’t want to see them. Didn’t want to see them at all. Ever. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be comfortable around this human. 

Why was he in his house? 

“Minho…”

Why was he here. 

Minho pulled himself up, trying his best to not panic. 

“I’m sorry I...I just needed to see you.”

“Why.” Minho spoke sharply, eyes sending daggers to the man standing at the foot of the bed, “why are you in Chan’s house, Seungmin?”

Why the fuck was he here? Why was he here? 

Seungmin looked horrible. He didn’t look like he’d slept. He looked so thin, so out of it. 

“I’m so sorry for what I said to you…” seungmin's voice hitched, eyes filling with tears. 

Minho didn’t know what to feel. 

Seungmins arms were crossed over his chest, “I...just wanted to apologize. I just...I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not a pet...you weren’t. I’m not a good person.” Minho knew that. “I’m such a bad...I’m just bad. I’m not better than him and I…”

Seungmin looked so bad. So horribly distraught and tired. And sick. He looked sick. 

“I’m so sorry. For everything. I’m sorry I sought you out, I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for everything I’m so sorry...you didn’t deserve that.” Seungmin was worrying him. 

Despite everything. Minho was worried. 

“I’m so bad...so horrible and I just...I should have told someone what he was doing. I shouldn’t have helped him.” Seungmin was crying. 

“Seungmin…” Minho pulled himself up from the bed, slight stinging in his lower back. 

“I just…” Seungmin backed away, “I shouldn’t have seen you as nothing. I shouldn’t have done that to you. You became so important to me...I had never cared for anyone as much as I did Felix. Nobody else mattered and suddenly you came and...you trusted me and I—“ Seungmin kept backing away, like he was terrified of Minho. Or maybe terrified of what he’d do to Minho. 

But he wasn’t okay. Seungmins words and actions were worrying him. He was so fucking worried. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you...if I could take it back I would. If I could just take everything I did back I would.”

Minho’s eyes widened. He understood what Seungmin was doing. And he wasn’t about to allow it. 

The window. 

“Seungmin…”

“I hurt you and Felix because of Jisung...because I was for some reason treating him like a friend. I let him hurt you. I let him do horrible things to you and...god I’m so sorry.” 

Seungmin was too close to the window. It was opened. It was long. Minho didn’t like this. 

“When did you open it?” Minho whispered, making his way steadily to Seungmin. 

“Minho I love you. I love you and you didn’t deserve this.” Seungmin was hyperventilating. Panicking. He was clearly...he was out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight. 

“I love you too, Seungmin.” Minho whispered back, reaching a hand out as Seungmin backed into the window, eyes flooded and breath rapid, “come here…”

“Minho I can’t...I—“

“Stop. Just come here.”

Seungmins eyes were clouded. He was shaking so badly, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Minho commanded, taking a step closer, “Don’t put this on me.”

Seungmin whimpered out at that. 

“Come here...don’t do that. Don’t do that to me.”

“Minho—“

“Seungmin. Come here.”

Seungmin didn’t. He backed himself up a little more, breath staggered as he took a look back before Minho lunged forwards, dragging Seungmin back by his arm before encasing him, arms tight around the man who was shaking in grasp. 

What the fuck was Seungmin trying to do? 

The man collapsed inside of him, sending them both to the ground. Seungmin was a whimpering mess, shaking harshly as Minho wrapped his arms around him tight. 

“Stop...calm down.”

“Minho...I’m bad. Minho I’m not a hero I’m not…”

Minho took a deep breath, moving his hand to seungmins hair, “stop…”

“I knew he was going to kill you...I didn’t stop him. I didn’t care I…” Seungmin sounded so insanely panicked. 

“Just shut up, Seungmin.” Minho took a deep breath, holding the boy tightly in his arms, “calm down.”

“Minho…”

“Shut up.” 

“Minho I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry.” Seungmin kept repeating himself, unmoving as Minho rocked him slightly. 

Part of Minho was asking why he hadn’t just let Seungmin jump. From this high he would have been dead for sure. But why didn’t he let him? Seungmin really wasn’t...what he did was unforgivable. Why didn’t Minho let him do it?

“I can't turn myself in...I can’t do it. The things I’ve done I...Minho I can’t, I tried.”

Minho didn’t respond, he just ran his arm down Seungmins back. 

“They’d kill me for what I’ve done...they’d kill me anyways.”

Minho took a deep breath, “Should I call Felix?”

“No. No he hates me. Don’t do that.” Seungmin was slowly composing, breaths getting more steady, “I’m sorry I just wanted to tell you how sorry I was before I—“

“You’re not allowed to hurt yourself, Seungmin. Do you understand me?” 

Seungmin shook his head, eyes sore and red. 

“You cannot hurt yourself. Please don’t do that.”

“Minho I’m evil...I’ve. I’m so fucked up.”

“Stop.”

“I was more interested in fucking your dead friend than helping you.”

Minho swallowed hard. He had to bury that. He had to ignore that. 

“Seungmin, calm down. I’m gonna call Felix…”

“He was really pretty,...Changbin. I was so disappointed he wasn’t delivered to me...I wanted so badly to—“ Minho shut him up, hand firmly planted against his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up, Seungmin.”

Minho was overwhelmed. As he sat at the bed watching Seungmin stare at the floor he wasn’t sure what to feel. What Seungmin had ended up saying was fucking...it was a lot. Seungmin really was...sick. 

“Minho, I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

“I’m so...disgusting.”

Minho couldn’t debate that. At least not truthfully. Seungmin was disgusting. The shit he said was disgusting. The things he did in his free time...god. 

“I just don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.” Seungmin whispered, staring into nothingness. 

“Why did you come here?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see me...die. I thought you’d like that.”

“I’m not a fucking psychopath, Seungmin.” Minho growled back, “Jesus christ...I don’t want anymore death around me. No more.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Seungmin...what am I supposed to do with this?”

Seungmin took a deep breath, “when you let me leave, I'll do it.”

Minho took a deep breath, “no you won’t. Seungmin I’m not letting you do that.”

“Why?”

Fuck. 

“Because I love you.”

“How?”

He didn’t know. He just knew that seeing seungmin at that window had triggered him so badly. He couldn’t lose Seungmin. Even if Seungmin was...vile. He couldn’t. 

“How can you stomach what I’ve done…” seungmin was crying again, shaking again. “I can’t even...it took so long for me to realize what I was doing.”

Minho took a deep breath, “I can’t stomach it, Seungmin. I can’t grasp it. I can’t.”

“How can you love me…?”

“You saved my life.”

Seungmin closed his he’s tightly, releasing an uncharacteristic sob, “no…”

“Yes. You could have let me die.”

“Minho—“

“Instead you saved my life. You’re not completely evil. You’re not.” Minho was struggling to believe his own words. But Seungmin had saved him. He did. 

“Minho?” There was a knock at the door and Seungmins eyes got wide. 

“Don’t...don’t tell. Minho please.”

Minho opened the door, giving Seungmin a glare. 

He would never do that to someone. Tell them something so disgusting and vile. No. He wasn’t like that. He didn’t want to hurt his friends. He didn’t want that at all. 

“Minho what’s going on?” Felix seemed confused, but once his eyes focused and he settled on Seungmin he stilled, “what is this?”

“Seungmin tried to hurt himself.”

Seungmin seemed horrified. Good. 

“What?”

“He tried to jump out of the fucking window.” Minho inhaled, settling on the bed. 

“Seungmin what the fuck?” Felix looked hurt, “why would you—“

“He was apologizing to me again,” Minho took a deep breath, giving Seungmin a worried look, “he’s not doing good.”

Felix was apprehensive, but the look he gave Seungmin was pure pity.

“Chan’s at work so I figured I would call you…”

“What am I supposed to…”

“He misses you. He misses us.”

What was he doing? 

“Minho what is this—“

“We have to help him, Felix.”

What was he doing?

“If we don’t he’s going to...Felix just help me.” Minho whispered, eyeing seungmin who was just as confused as he was. 

And that’s how it went. Maybe it was Seungmins sick way of forcing both of them back into his life, because he was eating it up. 

At least that’s how Minho saw it. 

Chan was confused, of course he was. Chan was so fucking mad at first. Rightfully so. And he made it his goal to make sure he showed Seungmin how unwelcome he was. He refused to acknowledge Seungmin half the time, and whenever Seungmin tried to touch Minho, Chan would give him daggers. 

Chan was rightfully mad. Rightfully annoyed. Not just with Seungmin, but Minho too. 

“Chan, I already told you what happened.”

“You see what he’s doing, don’t you?”

Of fucking course he did. Seungmin knew that Minho wouldn’t leave his side after that. Minho didn’t have it in him to eliminate toxicity. And the fear of Seungmin killing himself lingered, even though Minho was positive that Seungmin was never going to jump. 

“What was I supposed to do?” Minho asked, facing the counter, leaning over as he tapped away at his phone. 

“Not this.” Chan sighed sharply, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist, chin pressing into his shoulder, “I’ll break his neck if he hurts you.”

Minho knew he would do that. 

——

“What really happened that night?”

Seungmin stilled, pausing his hands at the Rubik’s cube he’d taken from Chan’s shelf, “what night?”

It was weird. How ‘same’ Seungmin was. He didn’t change. Didn’t act weird. He was the same. 

“What happened to Jisung, really.”

“Why would you ask me?”

“Why did you move him?”

Seungmin took a deep breath, “Minho—“

“He wasn’t dead, was he.” Minho snatched the Rubik’s cube that he knew he couldn’t even attempting moving with one hand, sliding it behind him at the floor, “I wanna know what happened.”

“Why so suddenly…?”

Seungmin’s uneasiness answered lots of questions already. 

“Just curious. It’s been awhile and I’m tired of pretending things are normal.”

Seungmin gave Minho a look, “so you want to make things not normal?”

“Just tell me what you did.”

Was it sudden, kind of. And kind of not. It was nearing September now. September was both good and bad, and a little ugly. Felix, Jisung, and...Seungmin. Birthdays for people who had slid into Minho’s life. September would have been a dark month had Felix and Seungmin not entered his life. Now? September approaching didn’t have that same safe vibe. Not with Seungmin at least. 

“Why do you think I did anything?”

“Just tell me.”

“Why would I do that to you?”

Minho arched his brow, leaning forward to eye seungmin curiously, “did you kill him?”

Seungmin shook his head, “Minho…”

“Answer me. It’s not a difficult question.” 

Minho had been curious for months. There was so much covered up about this case. So much that Minho never knew. So much information that had never came to him. Was it right to wonder about it like this? Probably not. But if Seungmin was going to be here, he may as well be useful. 

“I don’t want to—“

“Come on, tell me. Or should I bring up the little comment you made about Changbin?”

Seungmin glared, he fucked up with that comment. Royally. After some digging and spying, he’d found such a disgusting discovery. Apparently Seungmin had quit, had given up his life of fucking...fuck Minho couldn’t even stomach it. But he couldn’t even turn Seungmin in, even after that. He couldn’t do it. 

“Yes.”

Minho took a deep breath, “how?”

“Minho…”

“Did you...they probably wouldn’t tell me who he slept with after all this time. I’m sure you had something to do with that but...was it you?”

Seungmin inhaled sharply. 

“Jisung didn’t...ever let anyone...I meant maybe Hyunjin but—“

“Yes. Oh my god, Minho. Stop. I killed him, okay?”

Minho inhaled, “I thought so. How?”

“Questions stop here. I’m not answering that.”

Minho sighed, “Seungmin this thing that you did...if I wanted to turn you in, I really would. You know that?”

Seungmin just glared back. 

“I wish I had the balls to turn you in, I really fucking do.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“You still saved me. And fucking Felix...I can’t do that to him.”

“You had so much time, Minho.”

“I wasn’t concerned with you at the time. I was still trying to let Chan in. Turning you in was not my concern.”

“He hates me.”

“I know.” Minho leaned back on his hand, taking a deep breath. 

“He’s really good for you.”

“I know.” Minho repeated, “even though he hid stuff from me...he never lied to me.”

“You don’t want to know what I did to him. It’s probably what you assume.”

Minho’s breath hitched. He just assumed Seungmin had strangled him or something, honestly. And the...he really hated thinking about what Seungmin did to him after that. And he felt sick for finding it ironic or deserved. God, Jisung didn’t deserve that. Not at all. 

“I broke his hand, though.”

Minho swallowed hard. 

“For you.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Did you ever watch the video he took?”

“And now the questions stop.” Minho pulled himself up, “Felix should be here soon. Let’s not…”

“You asked.”

“Yeah, and now I’m done.”

Seungmin nodded, pulling himself up after him, “Minho...what I said to you that way...I don’t know why I was trying to push you away. I wanted to tell you the entire truth and...that’s just what I thought at the time.”

Minho inhaled, “I know you care about me. I’m not blind.”

Seungmins gaze met the floor. 

“I know you’re not playing me. But you’re still really...a piece of work.”

“So why keep me around?”

“Because I give a shit about you. Through everything, you’re still my fucking friend.”

Minho hated that. He was no better than Seungmin. Seungmin was friends with Jisung, a monster. And now Minho was friends with Seungmin, a monster. 

“You were never going to jump, were you?”

Seungmins empty gaze said it all. But that was okay. 

“We don’t have to talk about it ever again.” Minho whispered back, “thanks for killing him and saving me.”

“Minho—“

“We leave it at that. For good. It’s buried. Just like Hyunjin and Changbin, buried. Now help me feed Bomi, for some fucking reason she loves you.”

Everything was so attracted to Seungmin. He was a monstrous magnet, collecting such pure things—fuck he was a lot like Jisung. He was just better at hiding the evil. More manipulative and more comforting. Seungmin was a strange comfort. A strange everything.

Minho had every opportunity to turn him in. He had more than enough to put him away. He had so much information now. Not just from Seungmins confession. 

He saw the video. 

He had studied it a thousand times. He’d studied the background as Jisung laughed maniacally. He stomached watching his friend losing his head and watched the horrible state of his face as Jisung smashed it into Hyunjin’s. 

Jisung was stupid. He was stupid for muttering shit about Seungmin. He’d never given his name, not clearly enough. But he made jabs at the coroner throughout. 

But not even that was what Minho could hold over Seungmin. 

What he could hold? The fact that Seungmin received the video. Uncut and minutes after Jisung had finished. 

And he still had it. Minho knew he still had it. Spying in Seungmins lair of a morgue was telling. He found a lot of shit down there. He found notebooks and drawings and...Seungmin. He had so fucking much on him. 

So why the fuck wasn’t he using any of it? 

Maybe it was the smile Felix had started producing again. Were they dating again? Probably.

Or maybe it was how Chan was even more protective. Seungmin was scared shitless of Chan. Seungmin would never do shit with Chan around. 

Or maybe. 

Just maybe. 

Minho got a kick out of controlling someone. 

Yeah. He was controlling Seungmin. 

He wasn’t yellow. 

He was probably never yellow. 

Seungmin wouldn’t do shit to ever hurt Minho. Felix wouldn’t do shit. Chan wouldn’t do shit. Maybe in the weirdest fucked up way, Minho was controlling everyone. He didn’t mean to, but they revolved around him. They’d never hurt him. And if they did, they’d be evil. And they’d never do that. 

Minho didn’t think he was evil. He didn’t think that his manipulation was bad. He deserved this. He deserved to take charge after what these people had done to him.

Felix was a casualty in a way, but Minho couldn’t help but blame him for the cigarettes. And the cigarettes had led Minho to burn himself. He really didn’t like blaming Felix, but he couldn't help it. Felix was a bad influence, though. He got Minho back into cigarettes months ago. Something he couldn’t hide from Chan, but Chan couldn’t be upset about that. 

Chan. He loved Chan, he really did. Controlling Chan was easy. Minho could bring out some tears and mentions of his past trauma and he had what he wanted. The sex took ages, but thank god Chan had finally given in. Finally fucked Minho and let himself go.

See, he loved Chan. But Chan kept secrets. Secrets about Seungmin. 

And oh, Chan got off to his videos. His videos that had Jisung in them especially. Chan had gotten off to them. Minho was good at spying. Good at posting a hidden camera to catch his boyfriend getting off to one of the videos where Jisung was featured. Chan knew who Jisung was, and he still thought it was hot. 

He loved Chan. He really fucking loved him. But fuck, was he fucked up too. If Chan ever hurt Minho, he’d expose it all. 

And Seungmin was very obvious.

These three men were all so toxic in their own ways. All very fucking dark. 

But Minho was controlling them. He had all the power over them. They’d never dare hurt him again. They’d bow to him. They’d take care of him, put him first. 

Minho didn’t see controlling bad people as evil. He was doing the world a favor by keeping this men absorbed with him. 

So Minho wasn’t yellow. He scoffed at the color Jisung had thrown around. Yellow. What a stupid color given by a stupider man. 

Minho was fucking golden.

**Author's Note:**

> FUCKING GOLDEN.
> 
> /REST
> 
> A L S O 
> 
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